


Third Time's the Charm

by BigGhost



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Awkward Gladio, Episode Ignis Alternate Ending compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Nervous Gladio, Poor bab, all suave and perfect, he just wants to be like in the books, it can be an au where none of that ever happened, or the Ep Ignis Alternate Ending, set after the game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 10:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13587807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigGhost/pseuds/BigGhost
Summary: Gladio wants to propose to Prompto, but the universe keeps getting in his way.





	Third Time's the Charm

Why was this so nerve wracking?

Gladio had fought literal monsters.  He’d been sliced across the face by the goddamn ghost of the epitome of a King’s Shield.  He had carried the weight of being the Shield of the King of Light on his shoulders since he was a kid.  He’d hosted one of Iris’ birthday parties with fourteen of her classmates.

This ring box, though?

Asking Prompto to marry him?

Well… that was heavier than any of it.

Noctis had helped him pick out the ring.  It was a bit difficult to venture out into the public as the king, so Noctis asked that a few cases of the best rings be brought into the Citadel for Gladio to view.  However, getting Prompto  _ out _ of the Citadel was harder than bringing the rings  _ in _ .

(The guy was surprisingly attached to his work.)

In the end, Gladio had settled on a delicate white gold ring, sparsely decorated with mythril and tiny diamonds intertwining with each other like braided vines.  The box was a simple blue velvet, black silk to cradle the ring, and a gold royal crest on the inner lid.

Gladio carried the ring around for almost a month, trying to work up the nerve to ask.  Ignis nearly had a heart attack when he found out Gladio was just going to pop the question at any given time.  Free time at dinner?  Possible.  Text?  Possible.  Free time on the shitter?  Very possible.

“Regis would be rolling in his grave if he knew about this,” Ignis lamented.  From then, Ignis helped Gladio plan his proposal to a T.

First, a romantic dinner at one of Insomnia’s most famously romantic restaurants.  Leave it to Ignis to make a reservation at a suit-and-tie restaurant for two men without suits.  Gladio had never needed a suit; he had been on guard duty for any special event he had attended that required one.  Prompto had never needed one growing up, either.  Getting fitted for new suits together had been fun in its own right, and Prompto laughed whenever the quiet seamstress poked Gladio with her needle.  Gladio shifted uncomfortably in the mirror when she tightened the fabric to accentuate his ass.

The old, well-dressed man measuring Prompto for his tailored suit laughed lightly behind his hand with Prompto.  “Oh Six, darling, your husband is adorable.”

Prompto laughed with him, but didn’t correct him.  It made Gladio feel warm inside.

The restaurant was off on the other side of the city, because of course it was.  The ride there (courtesy of a private driver) was long, but the view was amazing.  The restaurant sat on the top floor of a building so tall, Gladio felt like he could touch the clouds.  It was nowhere near the Citadel’s height, but it was impressive for a building that wasn’t government-sanctioned.

The outdoor seating sat comfortably on open part of the restaurant, exposed to the sky and chill of twilight, and tall enough to see over the Old Wall.  The table they were seated at, a neat and tidy little round table with candles and napkin swans at the ready, sat on the very edge of the balcony where no one would intercept the light of the sun as it nestled into the distant mountains.

A waitress guided them over, made sure they were sat comfortably, and poured them each some expensive-looking champagne.  They ordered meals that were absurdly small for how expensive they were, and talked about everything and nothing.  Eventually, the sky was bathed in pink and orange, and Gladio felt courage swell in him.  He gripped the box in his pocket tightly as he stared at Prompto, who talked enthusiastically about whatever he wanted.  Something about training the new Glaive that he was training, and how “cute and new” they were.

Gods, he looked so amazing in this light.  Eyes lit up with excitement, hands waving with his story, cheeks flushed just a little from alcohol.

Gladio wanted to wake up to his face every single morning.

This was it.  This was the moment to ask!

Gladio prepared to lift himself from his chair to get down on his knee.

_ Rumble rumble rumble… _

. . .

No way.

Within seconds, the entirety if the outside seating was soaked with rain.  Prompto gasped and rushed to get inside, shielding their heads with their tiny menus.

Gladio felt his courage dissipate.  Well, so much for that.  He looked down at Prompto, soaked to the bone and hair shiny with water.  Surprisingly, most of his style had survived.

Prompto glanced up at him and giggled, leaning up to chastely kiss his lips.  “Let's go somewhere else, Big Guy,” he laughed.

They ate at a hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop in their soaked suits until the rain stopped, laughing and joking until their sides hurt.

* * *

 

The second attempt that Ignis suggested was a stroll in the Neon District: Insomnia’s nightlife tech hub where nerds and technophiles gathered to cry over the latest technology.  The district was filled with a bunch of shops, arcades, and casinos.  The neon lights decorating every inch kept everyone awake enough to spend shit loads of money.

They wandered in their street clothes, blending in seamlessly with the civilians.  They walked into every store that Prompto showed even mild interest in, and spent an unreasonable amount of money at the arcades.  By the time they finished, Gladio had won a stuffed chocobo and two stuffed hamsters for Prompto off of skee ball.  Prompto, true to his marksmanship, obliterated all the high scores on the shooting games.  Every top line of every shooter had “PROMPTO” blinking mockingly. Gladio would never admit that it turned him on to see it.  Out on the battlefield? Sure. He'd say the fight left him all kinds of hot and bothered.  Here in this little arcade, milling with the general public?  He'd have to be tortured.

Gladio almost burst when Prompto used his winnings to get Gladio a limited edition Bobo Bostar figure, which Gladio totally didn’t melt over.

. . .

(He melted.)

(A  _ lot _ .)

(. . . It even came with a detachable sword, holy shit!)

They made their way to the center of the district where the light show was supposed to happen.  The light show was a famous performance in this district, and Prompto had been wanting to see it for quite some time.  Gladio readily agreed to go in hopes of making it a memorable proposal spot, as Ignis had suggested.

The show was impressive, from what Gladio saw, but his attention was almost solely on Prompto.  His eyes, and how they wanted with amazed wonder and reflected the colors vibrantly.  His perfectly styled hair being washed in green, then purple, then blue and pink.  His lips parted in a big, childish smile, and laughing as he asked Gladio, “Did you see that?  Wow!”  He hugged the toys Gladio had won for him tightly against his chest in excitement.

Gladio felt the familiar confidence build up again.  Okay, this time for sure!  Nothing would get in his way this time!  Now or never!  Is he an Amicitia, or isn't he?!

He took a deep breath, he was gonna do it!  Take Prompto by the hands, get down on his knee, proclaim his love to the heavens and—

_ Shwoom _ …

. . .

Wait what?

The whole light show goes dark, as well as the seemingly entire center of the Neon District.  Gladio reached his hand out and wrapped his arm around Prompto’s shoulders as the darkness surrounded them, and he felt Prompto step closer to his chest; the tension in his muscles relaxed as the emergency lights kicked in and lit the area up in white.

Disappointed grumbling accompanied by the crowd leaving to go enjoy some more gambling and arcade games told Gladio that there would be no proposal light show afterall.  He felt a strange cross between frustration (he just wanted to get this over with, goddammit) and relief (he so did not want to get this over with, goddammit).  Gladio looked down at Prompto.  He only looked mildly upset, which Gladio supposed was good.  The shorter man smiled, and looked up at his partner.  He lifted himself up to his tip-toes, and gave Gladio a peck on the cheek.  “It’s alright, let’s go play some more games!  I gotta kick your ass at Dance Dance Diva!”  Prompto trotted off with his prize babies towards the arcades again.  Gladio sighed, but soon he followed closely behind.

Prompto beat him at Dance Dance Diva four times in a row.

* * *

 

The third time Gladio planned his proposal, Ignis suggested Cape Caem.  It was away from Insomnia, away from the city where things had been going wrong, and Gladio could use the beautiful vacation spot that his family owned to have a little getaway with Prompto.

He would propose at sunset on the beach after a nice, tranquil stroll.  When Prompto said yes (please, Ramuh, let him say yes), they would have a romantic dinner and rose bath combo.

The sand was warm against his feet as he and Prompto made their way down the beach.  The water climbed up the shore and licked at their feet, barely enough to touch their ankles, before receding back.  Gulls overhead flew and cawed as they fished for their dinners.  The sky was beginning to turn pink and orange with the sunset.

Prompto followed the little crabs that danced back and forth on the shore, and shooed the gulls away from a little turtle getting too close to the shore line.  His laugh echoed through the beach, coating Gladio in a feeling that his body translated as “home.”  He looked so free and comfortable in his shorts and tank top, with Gladio’s worn flannel over it.  (“Give me the one you wore yesterday, that one smells like you.”  Gladio had nearly died on the spot.)

Prompto skipped back to Gladio, and put his smaller hand into Gladio’s giant one.  He pressed their lips together in a dry, tongueless kiss.  It filled Gladio with warmth, despite how short it was.  When Prompto pulled away, he looked… concerned?  “You've been so quiet lately.  Something you wanna get off your chest?”

Oh…  So Gladio wasn't the enigmatic statue he hoped he'd been these past couple of weeks.

Of course Prompto would have noticed, he wasn't stupid.

The Shield sighed, and suddenly felt hyper-aware of the ring box in his pants pocket.

Alright, now or never, Gladio.  Prompto was the man of his dreams, so slap a ring on him and tell him, “I love ya, baby!”

He took a breath, “Actually, yeah, there's something that I want to talk about.”

Prompto’s face turned serious.  He'd never seen Gladio admit that he had feelings with the first time Prompto asked.  Usually it took some prodding and drinking to get him to admit that his back hurt, or that he was upset that his favorite author was retiring.

After a long, tense moment, Gladio started, “Prompto, I—”

_ Plop! _

Ramuh.

Give him strength.

Gladio slowly turned his head to his shoulder, and sure enough, spotted a dripping glob of gull poop on his shirt.  Prompto gasped, hand flying over his mouth.  “Oh shit, Gladio,” he said.  Oh  _ shit _ indeed.

Gladio opened his mouth to say something, but buckled in pain as he felt a pinch on the back of his ankle.  “Ow, shit!” he yelled as he kicked the offending crab away.  Prompto knelt down to inspect the minor wound, and Gladio felt his face burn in humiliation.

_ He _ was supposed to be the one kneeling for  _ Prompto _ , with a fucking ring for their future.  Not Prompto kneeling for him like he was a kid with a scrape on his knee…

“Well, it isn't too bad, babe.  Let's go back to the house and disinfect it, just to be safe,” Prompto said as he stood again, and took Gladio’s hand.  They walked back to the house in almost complete silence as Gladio felt the frustration, humiliation, and need for a steaming hot shower overtake him.

* * *

 

Gladio’s skin glided over Prompto’s with hot, sweaty friction.  He held him close and tight, wanting to feel every inch of Prompto’s body flush against his.  Their hips rolled together, and the sound of slapping skin was the beat to their chorus of moaning and groaning.

Gladio pressed his nose into Prompto’s neck, mouthing at his shoulder half-heartedly.  His hot breath left Prompto’s nerves singing in their wake.  One arm was under Prompto’s neck, giving him a makeshift pillow that he turned to kiss once in a while when he was able to get his tongue back in his mouth.  Gladio’s other hand gripped tightly at the meat of Prompto’s thighs, massaging them and rubbing them as they cradled his waist and hips tightly.  Gladio could feel Prompto’s heels against his tailbone and his hands running along his sides.  “God, Gladio, that feels good.  Oh shit.  Fuck, I love you,” he said.  It made Gladio feel safe: being wrapped up in Prompto’s embrace, basking in the warmth of the love they made…

He was the luckiest guy in all of fucking Eos.

He pushed all the thoughts of his humiliation earlier to the very back of his mind.  He wanted to relish in this moment.  Relish in how perfect Prompto was.  How perfect they were together.  How good it felt to be inside of him, and how good it felt when Prompto took the lead for a change.

His mind wandered, and his body took over with primal vigor.  He thrust into Prompto at an almost punishing pace, drinking in the heat between them as Prompto’s cock was rubbed between them, and Gladio was incredibly aware of the way his lover’s nipples rubbed against his chest as he bounced.

Gladio reached his hand down between the bed and Prompto’s ass, gripped the cheek tightly, and pulled and massaged it to open his partner wider.  Prompto yelped at the manipulation, and held Gladio tighter by wrapping his arms around his shoulders from under his pits.  Gladio’s breath came heavier and louder; he cut himself off with wet, fast kisses to Prompto’s lips.  It was little more than licking before Gladio would just settle for pressing their cheeks together.  He was so tight, warm, and wet.

Beautiful.

Perfect.

Fucking amazing.

_ Fuck, Prompto, I want to marry you so fucking bad— _

“What?”

What?

Gladio stopped immediately, boner forgotten, and stared down at Prompto as he stared back, his hair a mess and eyes blown wide with a face so red he looked sunburned.  They panted in each other’s space, but the thick tension that Gladio was suddenly feeling felt like it was crushing him.

“You mean it?” Prompto said breathlessly.

_ You mean it? _

_ You mean it? _

_ You mean it? _

. . .

Oh…

Gladio sputtered nervously, ears and neck flushing a deep red.  “I-I, er, I didn’t mean to say—“

“So you don’t want to get married?” Prompto questioned.

“N-No!  I do, I just, well!  It wasn’t supposed to be—!  What I mean is…”

Gladio groaned loudly, and shoved his face down into Prompto’s chest.  He only distantly felt Prompto’s hands on his shoulders to comfort him.  No, it wasn’t supposed to be like this!  It was supposed to be romantic, and memorable, and perfect, and—

“Gladio,” Prompto prodded.  Gladio groaned against Prompto’s skin to show that he was listening.  “Did you mean it?  Like, for real?”

Gladio waited a second, then moved his head to the side and laid his cheek against Prompto’s chest instead.  He felt like a child, but shit, he was angry.  Of all times to let his mouth run.  “Yeah.  I was trying to surprise you.  At the restaurant, the light show, the beach... Nothing went right.”

Prompto hummed.  He tapped Gladio’s shoulder to encourage him to face him again.  When he could see Gladio’s face, Prompto laughed, and ran his long fingers through Gladio’s thick hair.  “It seems, Mister Amicitia, that the universe does not want you to propose.”

Gladio felt his stomach twist at that.  No, he wanted this, and Shiva herself couldn’t keep it from him.

“I suppose I’ll do it for you, then!” Prompto declared.  “Sir Gladiolus Amicitia,” he said quieter, almost whispering as his hand caressed Gladio’s head gently pressed his palm against it.

“Will you marry me?”

It was like music.  Laughter bubbled out of Gladio, and he smiled a giant, toothy grin.

“Yes.”

This… this was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> they're rly gross and call each other "Future Mr. Amicitia" for like a week. after they're married, they refer to each other as "husband"
> 
> if you caught the references, good for you lol they were bobo bostar (jojo jostar from jojo's bizarre adventure, i also gave him a sword) and dance dance diva, a cross between dance dance revolution and project diva
> 
> find me on tumblr as sugarbath!


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